Little Red Hime and the Wolf
by Sariniste
Summary: A fractured fairy tale based on Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf. What happens to young ladies who go wandering alone in the deep, dark forest? AU, Aizen x Orihime, threats of violence, sexual innuendo, and fluff. A slightly OOC treat for Halloween, inspired by BlouBell's art on dA. One-shot.


**Little Red Hime and the Wolf**

**A/N:** A fractured fairy tale based on Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf. What happens to young ladies who go wandering alone in the deep, dark forest? AU, Aizen x Orihime, threats of violence, sexual innuendo, and fluff. A slightly OOC treat for Halloween. One-shot.

This story was inspired by **BlouBell's** amazing Halloween fanart on dA ( bloubell deviantart com /art/Little-Red-Hime-409613288, or see cover image for this story), and is dedicated to her, **Flare-Flare** and the AiHime FC on Bleach Asylum.

(Originally posted on 11/5/13.)

XxXxXxX

Once upon a time, in a small village not far from a deep, dark forest, lived a young woman named Orihime Inoue. She and her brother, Sora, the village woodcutter, lived in a tiny thatched hut at the edge of the village. Orihime was beloved by everyone in the village for her sweet nature and kind heart, but her brother especially doted on her. Although they were very poor, her brother had saved his pennies to buy a swath of soft, deep red wool, and her grandmother had sewed it into a warm cloak and hood to wear over her beautiful long auburn hair. It suited her so well that everyone called her Little Red Riding Hood.

Every week, the girl would pack a basket of food and walk along the path that skirted the woods to deliver it to her grandmother who was very sick. Sora cautioned her never to take the path that went directly through the forest even though it was shorter, because many dangers lurked underneath the trees. He warned her about wild animals that roamed the woods, and worse.

Not far from the village stood a castle where dwelt a powerful lord who ruled many men-at-arms. It was said this man was a sorcerer who commanded all forms of dark magic, and the villagers feared him greatly. He owned much of the land in the area, including the forest. Although the woods teemed with wild game, it was forbidden for any villager to hunt in his forest, under penalty of death. Tales were whispered that he roamed the forest at night in the shape of a wolf, amusing himself by hunting like an animal, leaving bloody, half-eaten carcasses along the trails as warnings to those who dared defy his rule.

XxXxXxX

One day, Orihime was skipping along on her weekly journey to her grandmother's house when she saw to her dismay that the bridge she normally crossed had been washed away by the rising river. Glancing at the sun hanging low in the sky, she realized that it would take too long to go all the way downstream to the ford.

Shivering, she looked over her shoulder at the path leading into the dark forest. She knew she should not take the shortcut; however, if she didn't, her grandmother would not get to eat that day.

Making up her mind quickly, she pulled the hood over her head and ran into the dimness of the woods.

It was murky and dank under the trees, and their branches intertwined thickly above her head. Heavy underbrush lined the narrow path, and phosphorescent green algae choked a ditch beside the trail. There was not a single sound as her feet trod lightly on the damp leaves underfoot.

Then, off in the distance, she heard a long, low howl. It sent chills up and down her spine, and she picked up her pace.

She had just rounded a bend in the trail when she heard rustling in the underbrush. She stopped short, her heart hammering in her chest. The villagers' tales of vicious wolves that roamed the forest rang in her ears, and she almost thought she saw two glowing eyes and a flash of yellowed fangs in a particularly dark patch of shadows.

She was about to turn and run when a tall man stepped out from behind a tree trunk. At once she gasped and almost stumbled in her relief as her fears evaporated. The man looked quite harmless.

"Why, hello there, young lady. Why are you running so fast today?" the man asked with a gentle smile, leaning casually against the tree. His voice was deep and comforting. He wore a simple black cloak over a plain white shirt; thick brown hair was swept back from a high forehead, with a single curl hanging between his eyes.

Unsure of his status, Orihime swept the man a deep curtsy. His clothes were of a simple cut, like that any of the villagers might wear, and he spoke with the same accents she heard every day in the village square. But there was a confidence in his tone that she rarely heard from people of her class.

"Good sir," she replied, "my grandmother is quite ill, and I am bringing her food and medicines."

The man chuckled softly. "Why, how kind of you. You must have a good and generous heart, and no doubt will be rewarded one day." He gestured casually in the direction of a clearing off to the left of the path. "There are some beautiful primroses and lupines growing over yonder. I'm certain your grandmother would love a bouquet of flowers to brighten her day."

Orihime's eyes sparkled. "Kind sir, that is a wonderful idea!" she exclaimed, and immediately set to work picking flowers.

When she looked up after a moment, the man was gone. Shrugging, she continued until she had a huge armful of fresh wildflowers, then resumed rushing along the path.

XxXxXxX

In the meantime, there was a knock at the door of the grandmother's cottage. The old woman, who once had been a robust and bustling farmwife, now lay in her bed, too weak to get up.

"Who is it?" she called in a feeble voice.

"It is your granddaughter, Little Red Riding Hood," said a high-pitched voice, sweet as syrup.

"I'm too weak to open the door," said the old woman. "Lift the latch and come on in."

The door creaked open slowly, and there was a swirl of darkness in the opening. A sudden breeze swept into the small cottage, and the woman's eyes grew wide with fear.

XxXxXxX

It did not take long until Orihime arrived at her grandmother's house, swinging her basket and her bouquet of flowers. She tapped softly on the door. "Grandmother, it's me, Little Red Riding Hood!" she called.

From within, a voice responded, "Orihime, my dear, lift the latch and come on in."

Orihime frowned. Her grandmother's voice sounded quite hoarse. She must be very sick today. She entered the cottage and set the basket and flowers on the table. The fire had burned low, and the room was very dim. The air smelled close and sickly sweet with smoke from herbs that had been cast upon the fire. Her grandmother was tucked into bed in an alcove, a white lace cap over her hair. Orihime approached her side.

She stopped part-way, suddenly nervous. In the dimness, her grandmother's pale face under the cap seemed to ripple and flow, as though seen underwater. Orihime blinked several times. "Dear grandmother, you look different today. Are you very ill?"

"Yes," croaked the figure in the bed. "Very." And a deep cough emanated from the frail body.

Orihime stared. "Grandmother, your ears seem larger than usual."

"It must be a trick of the light," sighed the bedridden woman. "I can hear you quite well."

Orihime moved closer. "Grandmother, I never knew you had brown eyes," she exclaimed.

"Why you silly girl. My eyes have always been brown, don't you remember?"

"I—" Orihime put her hand to her head. "My goodness, I feel so dizzy for some reason."

"Here," said the deep voice. "Why don't you lie down in bed beside me?"

Orihime knew that something was wrong, but her head was spinning. She stumbled to the bed, where her grandmother had pulled back the blankets, and slipped under the covers, pressing against the warm body beside her. "Oh!" she cried. "You've taken off all your clothes, grandmother." She closed her eyes, suddenly very sleepy. "But your skin is so hot," she mumbled, as strong arms found their way around her. "Are you burning up with fever? I feel so cold all of a sudden. Am I getting sick too?"

"Don't worry about that," said the strange voice. "I'll keep you warm."

Orihime sighed as her mind spun into darkness, cocooned in warmth, an exotic and heady scent filling her nostrils. Her eyelids fluttered and her skin tingled, and then there was nothing.

XxXxXxX

Bam! Bam! Bam!

The pounding on the door continued, and Orihime slowly emerged from the murky depths of sleep. Where was she?

She gradually realized that she was lying completely unclothed in her grandmother's bed, and there was a loud knocking at the door. Her body felt strange; tingly and warm all over. She had never awakened feeling like this before.

But before she could call out, "Who is it?" the door burst open, and in rushed Sora, his axe in his hand. Orihime sat up in bed, wrapping the blankets around her. Behind Sora stood a tall man with a green and white striped hat pulled low over his eyes. Shaggy tufts of blond hair poked out from under the hat.

"Orihime!" Sora cried, rushing to her side. "Are you all right?"

Orihime blushed. "I'm fine, Sora. But could you please hand me my clothes?" she asked, gesturing to where her dress and cloak were folded neatly upon a small wooden chair.

His eyebrows lowered. "What happened to you? Why are—" With a sidelong glance at the blond behind him, her brother shut his mouth firmly. Picking up the clothes, he handed them to her and watched doubtfully as she dressed herself under the covers.

In the meantime, the other man sauntered inside, his wooden sandals clopping on the floor. Pausing a moment, his eyes carefully swept the room. He raised a slender wand and muttered an incantation in a strange language.

"Who is he?" asked Orihime curiously as she climbed out of bed. "And what is going on?"

Sora lowered his voice. "His name is Urahara, and he's a sorcerer. He was passing through the village and informed us that he detected evil magic here. I was concerned about you since you had been gone so long, and asked to accompany him."

Orihime's gaze fell once more upon the blond, who had not ceased his passes and incantations. After a final flourish, he lowered the wand.

Orihime gasped as a shape suddenly became visible half-tucked under the blankets of her grandmother's bed: it was the brown-haired man she had met in the forest earlier. He was propped up on his elbows, facing them, head cocked to one side, one curl dangling over his forehead, lips curved in an amused, sleepy half-smile. The lean muscles of his shoulders and arms flexed slightly as he drew the sheets up past his well-formed buttocks. He was obviously wearing absolutely nothing, just as she had been only a few moments ago. Orihime felt a hot flush creeping over her cheeks and throat. Why had they been in the same bed? What was he doing in her grandmother's house? And… where was her beloved grandmother?

Upon finding himself visible, the man did not seem at all disconcerted. He lifted his warm brown eyes and offered them all a languid, charming smile. "Greetings, my dear friends. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Sora took a step forward, raising his axe. "Why you –"

Urahara put out a hand to stop him. "Just tell him he is not to move," he urged, his eyes not leaving the man in the bed.

Puzzled, Sora responded, "Do not move, intruder, or I will cut you apart with my axe." He glared at the man, who merely smiled at the threat, watching them all calmly from his relaxed position on the bed.

Urahara raised his wand once more. This time, black ribbons flew out of it in a flood. They swung through the air like live things, spinning and whirling, swarming in a cloud toward the man on the bed. The black strips wound themselves over and over around his torso, legs, and arms, leaving only his head free. Then—Orihime could not help a shocked intake of breath—the ribbons drew taut, picked him up and lifted him off the bed, up into the air and across the room. The torrent of black ribbons waved wildly around their burden. They set the man down on a high-backed chair near the fireplace. Urahara gestured with his wand and the ribbons abruptly tightened around his limbs and bound the man's body to the chair.

The entire time, the man kept a serene, amused expression on his face, the sort of expression Orihime had seen on indulgent parents as their children played at being grown up.

Urahara straightened and lowered his wand. "There," he remarked with satisfaction. "Your powers are bound, Aizen, so that you may do no more evil."

Sora took a step forward, shaking with fear and anger. "What did you do to my sister?" he demanded of the man in the chair.

The man—Aizen?— tilted his head so his lock of hair fell into one of his deep brown eyes. "I did not _harm_ your sister," he said in a playful tone.

Urahara gazed doubtfully at Orihime. "We'll see about that," he promised, waving his wand again. The bindings flared, and the man inhaled sharply but made no sound. Orihime caught her breath as his shape blurred and shimmered.

"Now we shall see you in your true form, demon!" announced Urahara, with a final flourish of his wand.

The shimmering gradually stabilized, and Orihime beheld a creature with the face and body of a man, except that two pointed ears poked out of his thick head of hair and a heavily-furred tail waved gently over one shoulder.

"Wolf spirit!" hissed Sora. "So it is true!"

The man gave a graceful shrug within his bindings and his ears swiveled. "I suppose there's no use denying it," he murmured. He turned his large, liquid brown eyes on Orihime. "Please believe me, young maiden," he said, "when I say I never intended to do you harm. I merely took action when you trespassed on my own territory."

"You what?" demanded Sora, clenching his fists and stepping forward.

"It is the way of our kind," drawled Aizen. He gestured at Orihime. "I saw this beautiful and unique creature through my spyglass from my tower." He smiled at her, and something in his expression was somehow disturbing. She squirmed and lowered her eyes. "I decided that if she set foot upon my territory, I would claim her. As soon as she stepped within the forest, she was mine."

Urahara scowled. "Barbarian wolf," he muttered. "The other clans are much more civilized about such matters."

Sora ignored him. "That's not the way to approach a young lady, you demon beast!" he spat. His eyes narrowed and he shifted the axe upon his shoulder. "My sister has no wish to be associated with an evil sorcerer and wolf spirit."

"No wish?" Aizen lifted one elegant shoulder and the tip of his tail twitched. "What opportunities does she have in your village? To marry one of your impoverished, uneducated neighbors and spend the rest of her life in drudgery?" He smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile. "With me, she can live in luxury and have opportunities to expand her horizons, travel the world, see wonders she has never dreamt of."

"As your prisoner!" Sora blustered. "That is no life for a young girl."

"Besides," Urahara put in. "You don't really have a future, because I'm going to destroy you."

The wolf spirit's smile widened as he turned his gaze upon the sorcerer. "You could try." He lowered his thick eyelashes over his eyes. "But then … what would happen to these young people's grandmother?"

"Where is she?" Orihime burst out. "What have you done with her?"

Aizen closed his eyes slowly. "She is alive and unharmed," he remarked carelessly.

"Tell us where she is at once," commanded Urahara.

A small smirk crossed the imprisoned man's face and one ear twitched. "I could tell you," he murmured, "but it would do you no good. She has been transformed, and if you wish her returned to her original shape you will have to release the hold on my powers."

"Where is she?" persisted Urahara.

"Why should I freely give my enemy any information?" The man tipped his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, a small smile on his face, his mouth firmly shut. Even his ears did not move. Only the very tip of his tail waved gently.

Sora turned to Urahara. "Make him tell you."

The man tugged at his hat and shrugged. "Well—you see, my powers are limited here. I'm really mostly a humble shopkeeper, and only a part-time sorcerer."

Sora's mouth dropped open. "How can you be a _part-time_ sorcerer?"

"Does that mean you won't help us?" asked Orihime in dismay.

Urahara turned to regard Aizen. Despite his bindings, the wolf spirit emanated an air of danger and controlled power that seemed to fill the tiny room. His expression remained completely placid. The sorcerer sighed. "I'm sorry," he said to Orihime. "There's nothing I can do."

Orihime stared at him in distress for a moment. Then, clasping her hands, she darted across the polished wooden floor and fell to her knees before the bound man. She gazed up at him with wide grey eyes. "Please," she begged. "Tell us where she is."

Aizen narrowed his eyes speculatively. She met his gaze with her own, lifting her chin stubbornly. For a moment there was utter silence in the room. Then he looked away, shrugging one shoulder carelessly. Pursing his lips, he gave a long, low whistle. Orihime scrambled to her feet, listening.

"What is that—" demanded Sora, but Urahara shushed him.

"Wait," the sorcerer counseled.

There was no sound for a long time. The three looked at each other, and Orihime made to say something, only to subside when Urahara put a finger to his lips.

Finally, they all heard a faint scratching at the back door.

"Open the door," commanded Aizen.

Sora rushed to the door and flung it open. On the back stoop sat an old, arthritic dog with patchy white fur. Upon seeing them all, the dog heaved itself to its feet and limped slowly into the room, where it lay down beside Orihime, rubbing its head against her leg and feebly thumping its tail.

"You fiend!" shouted Sora. "Is that our grandmother?"

There was a gleam in the man's dark eyes. "She is unhurt. I simply wanted her… out of the way while I made my claim."

"Turn her back at once!" demanded Sora.

The man raised one mocking eyebrow, indicating the bindings. "Did you not hear the words of your unholy ally?" he asked. "My powers are bound."

Sora looked at Urahara. "Can you restore her to her human form?"

"Eh…" The man scratched the back of his head. "I'm afraid not. Only the spellcaster has that ability."

"Can you release him just enough that he can remove the spell?"

Urahara scrunched up his face. "If I release the bindings, his powers will return, and we are all at risk." He shook his head. "No, it's best if I simply destroy him." He turned to Sora with an ingratiating smile. "Your grandmother is old and is not long for this world. Why not let her find peace now?"

Orihime's jaw dropped open and she faced the sorcerer angrily. "You're suggesting we sacrifice our grandmother? Never!"

"Eh… then I'm afraid we're at an impasse," said Urahara with apparent regret. "I won't release this man so he can wreak his evil upon the world."

"But you have to save our grandmother!" insisted Orihime, her grey eyes blazing.

"I'm sorry." Urahara shrugged. "But think of it this way: her life is going for a noble cause."

Orihime took a step forward, advancing on the sorcerer. Her fists were clenched. "You—" she spat. Sora held her back, a worried expression on his face.

"I have a proposal," interrupted the wolf spirit. His ears flicked forward and he smiled. "I don't think any of us wants to see violence done here. I will bargain with the young lady directly." He glanced again at Orihime. "This ground belongs to her, and thus she has a certain power over all of us within this room." He faced her fully. "My dear, before we continue, listen to what I have to offer you." His voice dropped into a lower register. "I can teach you the rich, wild ways of the Earth, the secret knowledge of beasts, impart to you the glory of running at night under the full moon, your limbs thrilling to the tempest of the winds, your heart swirling with joy."

His voice was low and melodic, and Orihime found she could not look away from his deep, dark eyes. "This I promise: choose to stay with me, and not only will I release your grandmother from the spell, but I will treat you like a princess every day of your life. I will marry you by the laws of your people, give you a comfortable home in my castle, and," he flicked an amused glance at Sora, "even shower gifts upon your reluctant family." Orihime shivered, unable even to blink.

At last he fell silent and Orihime shook herself, released from the spell.

Sora, who had been listening in anger, burst out, "Don't listen to him, Orihime! He's lying! He's trying to trick his way out of the bindings. I'm sure he has no intention of keeping his promises."

The girl wrung her hands. "But don't you see, Sora? We have to take the risk. It's the only way to free grandmother."

Urahara frowned. "At worst, we all die. At best, you ally yourself with this evil creature?" He shook his head slowly. "Not a good idea."

Orihime ignored him. She took a step forward and met Aizen's eyes. Before she could change her mind, she raised her chin and said, "I accept your proposal."

The man smiled, and his eyes glittered. His eyes flicked to the blond sorcerer. "You heard her," he said, angling his pointed ears. "Release me so that I can fulfill my end of the bargain."

The man with shaggy hair rubbed the back of his head, frowning. Then he sighed. "Very well," he said. "I suppose I have no choice." He raised his wand. Now the black ribbons moved in reverse, disentangling themselves one by one from the wolf spirit's body and disappearing back into the wand.

Released from his bindings, Aizen stood gracefully and stretched. He had somehow acquired an elegant white silk shirt tucked into close-fitting black trousers of an equally fine material. He paused, his gaze falling upon each of the others in turn, and his smile widened as he saw they were unsure whether or not he would uphold his end of the bargain.

He held the silence for a moment, just as Sora's face began to darken, and then murmured under his breath and pointed a finger at the old dog.

There was another of those disconcerting shimmers. When her vision cleared, Orihime beheld their grandmother lying curled up on the floor. She rushed to the old woman, falling to her knees and attempting to help her up.

"Dearest grandmother," she cried. "How are you feeling?"

The woman struggled to her feet. "Not so bad," she croaked. "I do believe it's time to make some tea," she muttered as she limped over to her cupboard and began pulling dishes out of it.

Orihime's heart lifted in surprised delight. It had been some time since the old woman had been well enough to make food for herself, so clearly her stint as a dog had done her no harm.

Now it was time to uphold her end of the bargain. Slowly, she turned, shaking a little as she realized she had offered herself up to the wolf spirit. For the rest of her life.

But Urahara was grinning. He took a step forward and tossed something that looked like a small rock directly onto the wolf spirit's torso. Aizen gasped and doubled over. "Ha!" Urahara exclaimed. "You forgot the rule of your own kind: if a free human gives up her freedom of her own will, the Earth itself can bind you. With this stone, I lock you down."

Darkness began rising around the man's legs, as they shrank and bent. Orihime's eyes widened. The man was turning into a wolf before her very eyes.

Urahara began chanting. "So I cast you into the shape of a wolf for the remainder of your days," he intoned. "You will live, but your mind will be the mind of a wolf, and you will run on four legs until your death."

The man sighed, his face calm once more. His deep brown eyes met Orihime's one last time. Then he looked away and his ears and tail drooped.

The transformation continued. Orihime, frozen, could only stare as the once-powerful creature was unmade before her eyes. The darkness crept up over Aizen's thighs… then his torso… His eyes closed completely and his entire body sagged.

It was almost done.

Then Orihime cried, "No, stop!" She ran forward and seized the binding stone in her hand, scooping it up from Aizen's chest. Then she turned and threw it out the open back door. "Don't do this! I made a promise and it's only fair that I keep it."

There was a sudden hesitation in the air, as though powerful energies were being abruptly reversed. In a flash the darkness around the wolf spirit's body was gone, and he once more stood before them in the shape of a man. A triumphant man, in full possession of his powers.

He made a brief gesture, and the air in the room became thick and congealed. No one could move. Urahara strained to lift his wand in vain.

Completely relaxed, the man smiled at them all. There was a dark glitter in his eyes. "You were foolish to release me," he murmured. "Now you are all in my power. You would have treated me ill. I should amuse myself by making you all my playthings." His smile broadened. "Tell me," he purred, "what do you know of torture? Of pain so intense it causes you to beg for death?" The tip of his tongue appeared at a corner of his mouth and he lifted a hand, fingers outstretched. Sora, eyes wide, stumbled backwards.

Orihime swallowed. Then she lifted her head high. "I don't believe you'll do any of that. I believe you'll keep your bargain, and I trust you." She walked forward. It was like standing upright in a stiff wind. She pushed her way through the thick air to stand directly before Aizen and interlace her fingers with his uplifted hand. "I'll willingly go with you and accept you as husband and mate. But you have to stop threatening people."

The man smiled down at her. "Why, Orihime, I am touched that you believe in me."

Around him, the pressure of his magic diminished and they all could breathe freely again.

"Very well." He lifted a hand. "In gratitude, as bride-gift to Orihime, I grant you all forgiveness. I place your village under my protection. I grant all your people free passage through my forest." He stepped closer to her, placed an arm around her waist, and bent to brush his lips gently to hers. Orihime felt a return of the odd, tingling heat she had noticed earlier, and found herself involuntarily drawing closer to him, fitting herself within the curve of his arm.

"Now, let us leave this place together." He raised his head. "But first—I shall send this pesky creature back to where he came from." He gestured at Urahara, but before he could begin, the sorcerer had muttered a quick spell.

His body darkened, shrunk, and fell to all fours. Suddenly before them crouched a black leopard. Hissing, the wild cat spun and leaped out the window, darting off into the forest.

Sora gasped. "A leopard spirit?"

"Yes," said Aizen, frowning. "An ancient enemy of my clan." He glanced at Sora. "You would do well not to trust any strange sorcerer who appears in your village."

Sora had the grace to look abashed. Then he rallied. "Well, at least he didn't kidnap and bespell my grandmother and sister," he retorted.

Aizen raised his eyebrows. "You—"

He was interrupted by a reedy voice calling, "It's ready!" The old woman, who had been puttering at the fire, unnoticed all this time, walked unsteadily to the table carrying a large teakettle and several cups. She set them down and then smiled peacefully at all of them.

"Goodness," said the old lady. "What a day this has been." She turned to the stranger in her house, the formidable lord and wolf spirit who held the power of life and death over them all, and said in a tone of gentle reproach, "Why don't you children sit down, and let's all have some tea."

XxXxXxX

And so it was that Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf lived happily ever after.

_**~The End~**_

**A/N: **Please leave a review if you have a moment.

a. Loved the story.

b. Write more fairy tales.

c. Too OOC.

d. Now I know where Aizen got his taste for tea!


End file.
